Chapter 11: Draco's Demise
by Tales of Depravity
Summary: Content warning: ring ALL the alarm bells:: Death, abuse, rape, M-rating not to be taken lightly. Draco's task as Death Eater is to take Harry Potter to Malfoy manor through the vanishing cabinet. He knows failure means his mother dies. Chapter scrapped from a multichapter Draco/Ron fic on another account for being just too much. ONESHOT. Completed.


**The Vanishing Cabinet was strangely warm inside.**  
Draco was actually in it alone. Panic was starting to fade and he was still reaching for the doors, hearing by the sound of his fingers on the wood that these weren't held shut any more.  
No point in stalling now…

With a deep breath he pushed the doors open.

It was so bright outside of it Draco had to shut his eyes tightly. There were black silhouettes nearby and he dreaded discovering who they were.

"Where's Potter?" That was aunt Bellatrix' voice. Draco had to force himself to open his eyes even slightly.

"He's not here," Draco said before swallowing.

He heard something like a scoff from a man at his left and managed his eyes to open fully.

He never realised how dark the Room of Requirement really was, especially compared to his family library at home.  
There were three Death Eaters casting shadows over him – a man he didn't know at his left, Bellatrix in the middle and a man he thought was named McLaughlin at his right.

Bellatrix didn't seem too happy. "You just killed your mummy, boy," she snapped, using her wand to wipe her hair from her face angrily.

The words didn't fully process, even though Draco knew what they meant. He nodded uncertainly.

"Evans," Bellatrix said, and the man at the left turned and walked towards the wall.

Draco could now see his Mother stand against it, apparently petrified.

No wait – she wasn't petrified. Not magically, anyway. She was shivering, and looking at Draco in a way that made realisation dawn in on him.

Unthinking he blabbered. "He's still there, I can go back and g-… "

"Silence!" Bellatrix shouted, her eyes opened wide and looking at him the way a predator looks at its prey.

"H-here?" his Mother said, panic obvious in her voice. "Bella not here, please, not in front of him, don't-"

"EVANS! KILL HER! THE DARK LORD SAID TO!" Bellatrix bellowed, stomping her foot. Her eyes were still on Draco.

Draco felt his senses retreat inside of himself and his tunnel vision found his Mother looking at him. He could see tears glistering in her eyes.

She was shaking her head and her lips parted to speak; "I'm sor-"

"_Avada kedavra_," Evans said, sounding as if he was explaining the curse rather than using it.

Narcissa could feel her body become limp and before she hit the ground she could hear the word she was pronouncing turn into a sigh.

She could still see. She couldn't blink, but she could see.

She could feel her heart had stopped and she knew she wasn't breathing any more either.

But she could see.

Bellatrix paced away from her and then return, standing right in front of Draco.

She could see their mid section and their heads, the ceiling, the books behind it... she had to strain herself to focus her fading attention on her sister and her son.

She saw her slap him.

She heard her yell.

He looked pale – Draco.

Draco looked pale.

_Please be all right darling. Mummy loves you. Always have, always will._

"Greyback!" Bella snapped.

Narcissa could feel his footsteps come from behind her, pass her and she could see the filth on his shoes and pants with unbelievable detail.

"Take care of him," Bellatrix said, slapping Draco twice more. Greyback grunted.

Narcissa never expected her final moments to be like this.

_Please let me stay. _

_ to see more _

_d o n ' t let me fade_

**Draco's tunnel vision was now somehow focused on Greyback, who** said something to him. He wasn't sure what. He couldn't move regardless – his limbs just didn't cooperate. His gaze drifted from Greyback's talking mouth to his mother, laying on the floor with her eyes opened. A tear was resting on the bridge of her nose and she seemed to be looking at him. _'I'm sorry._' Those were the last words she said – she had wanted to say.

Why didn't these people have the decency to let her finish? She could have –... ONE MORE SYLLABLE and it would have been all right, they didn't even allow her to apologise?

What kind of— ... How unbelievably— ...

! ? ?

"_SORRY_ won't bring her back Draco!" Bellatrix yelled, slapping him again.

The sensation didn't process at all – the sound of it barely did.

"_You_ disappointed the Dark Lord! Was this _teensy_ task so difficult? After ALL I've done for you!?"

The only reason Draco knew Greyback took his arm and was guiding him away from Bellatrix was because of the smell of the man. Sweat and... something else. He couldn't place it.

"YOU KILLED CISSA DRACO! I'M NOT PLEASED!"

Bellatrix voice was ringing in his ears and slowly he turned his head away from her. Evans was standing against the wall, looking up at him from a low angle. He didn't seem much older than Draco, he definitely couldn't be 25 yet.

Evans raised his chin, slowly, some of his dark blond hair falling in his face. He had a ghostly expression – he didn't seem happy either. Shocked, if anything.

Draco wasn't aware he stopped walking until Greyback squeezed his arm and dragged him along further.

Draco felt empty as Greyback guided him through his own house. He wouldn't have been able to find the way now, not in the state he was in.

"We were supposed to have a party tonight," Greyback said, still pulling him along by the arm, "What went wrong?"

Draco scolded himself for having trusted the Weasel.  
…he should have known, really. He should have known he would be betrayed and that he would be sent in the Vanishing Cabinet alone rather than with Potter.  
What had made him think Ron could keep his yap shut to his 'best friend'? That he, Draco, mattered to him?

"Well?" Greyback barked.

The only reason Draco knew Greyback yanked his arm was because his vision moved to the sides more than he intended to. Dimly he realised they were on the stairs now.

"Where are we going?" he asked the step, turning his head in amazement to Greyback's foot landing on it. Suddenly the steps approached him quickly, stopping right in front of his face. Then they moved away under him, and when a filthy warm gloved hand grabbed him in the neck he could tell from his sore knee he must have just tripped.

"Get up. I'll only carry you if I kill you first."

Draco managed to get his feet under him and managed to walk the stairs with Greyback's hand in his neck.  
It was as if that hand was the only thing keeping him conscious.

They entered Draco's bedroom and Greyback closed the door behind him. The familiar sight of it combined with the smell of strangers wasn't right and it awakened Draco's mind.

Slowly he became aware of the force of the hand in his neck – had it been squeezing the entire time?  
He was forced by it to walk towards his bathroom.

Greyback opened the tap of the sink and forced Draco's head under it.

The cold water did its job and Draco gasped. He put his hands on the sides of the sink and tried to free himself, but Greyback's hand kept his head in place.

"Let go!" Draco tried to free himself again, this time bumping his head painfully against the tap before Greyback pushed him back.

Just when his frustration and shock made way for panic, Greyback let go.

Draco shook his head to get some off the cold water off of him, then straightened his back to look in the mirror. He looked dreadfully pale, especially compared Greyback's filthy appearance.

The scent of sweat seemed even stronger now and he didn't want to know what other scents were coming from the man.

The man who grinned at him through the mirror.

Draco cocked a brow. "...do you ever shower?" defaulting to snark in lieu of a response to the situation.

He swallowed hard. Anything was better than thinking of what just happened, even if it was arguing with this notorious pedophile...werewolf...murderer with terrifying eyes.

"You might die today," the werewolf replied matter-of-factly. "Narcissa was going to die if you failed anyway, but you took so long that people think your loyalty is wavering."

Draco's eyes grew wide and Greyback grinned widely before inhaling through his nose deeply. He was no longer looking into Draco's eyes through the mirror – he was now looking at his neck.

Draco could feel his hairs stand on end.

"If your note would have arrived any later they would have killed her, and killed you on arrival regardless of whether you succeeded or not," Greyback mumbled.

"Th-that's not fair," Draco muttered, gripping the edges of the sink firmly and leaning on it.

Greyback chuckled; "You're scared..." he inhaled deeply again, and grinned unpleasantly. Not like anything about him was pleasant at all, but this grin was particularly creepy. "...I can smell it on you."

Draco swallowed hard, feeling is heart pound in his throat.

"You're disposable to them."

Tunnel vision set in again.

"B-... I can move around freely in Hogwarts. Nobody else can." His own voice sounded like it came from far away. "It's very useful. If they kill me they will lose that."

He faintly heard something metallic, and then cloth move behind him.

His eyes were set on the drain of the sink, he didn't want to look away from it until he could get his eyes to stop leaking tears.

He straightened his back in shock though when he felt Greyback's hands had moved around him and were messing with his pants.

"What are you doing?" he frantically sought eye contact with the man through the mirror, but it went unanswered.

The disgusting man was sniffing his neck - Draco could hear it right next to his ear.

The man's stench was unbelievably strong now Draco's back was forced against his torso, and he shuddered when he felt the man's trousers were he tried to swat away the big disgusting hands trying to open his own trousers but it was futile. He didn't have the strength nor the speed.

The bottom of the zipper actually ripped and Draco would have fallen over at the force of the man's moves if he wasn't being held in place.

In a daze Draco reached for his pants, trying to pull them up again. A big dirty hand was reaching in his groin though, painfully gripping him and he yelped. He ineffectually tried to swat the hand away again.

The man's other hand then ripped off his underwear, hurting him as he did so and tossing the cloth carelessly in the toilet.

Greyback's animal-like pale blue eyes were looking at Draco through the mirror as he sniffed his neck again.

Draco had no choice but to lean his hands on the sink – the monster was leaning on him heavily.

He was terrified and his mind was racing.

_'When threatened by a shark, hit them between the eyes'_ — useless.

_'Please Drake, I want it so badly'_ — wrong again.

The filthy hand had filthy fingerless gloves on it, and it was cupping his ass painfully.

"I th-thought you liked children," Draco managed, voice choking in panic.

"You're scared like a child..." Greyback grunted in response, gripping Draco's ass even more painfully.

The hand then let go and ripped off Draco's upper garments one by one. Then it stroked over his throat, down over his chest and then joined the other hand in his groin.

"Maybe even... more scared than a child... because you understand what's going to happen..."

Draco yelped when he felt filthy nails pinch his sensitive skin, and tears that came out of absolutely nowhere ran down his face when one of the hands cupped his entire manhood almost comfortably.

"Please don't do this," he tried, yelping again when the other hand grabbed his hair and pulled him back. He was now fully naked apart from his pants on his ankles and his socks and shoes.

The hand in his hair forced him to turn around and Draco obeyed, reaching for the sink for support. The smell of sweat was unbearably nauseating and he gagged, but before he could recollect himself the scent of it paled in comparison to the scent of the monster's breath.

The monster's open mouth covered Draco's nose and mouth and the disgustingly warm tongue pried open his lips and forced its way in, stroking over his tongue and making the gagging even worse.

The thought of vomit terrified him though, always had, and knowing he was gagging was scaring and disgusting him so much it was reinforcing itself. With all his might he tried to push the man away from him, but a solid wall would have given in more. The 'kiss' ended, and the man sniffed Draco's neck again.

The hand in his groin let go and reached further between his legs before one of the fingers forced its way into his anus.

Draco was still gagging and between the hand in his hair, the sink in his back and the wall of a man in front of him, he had no space to move.

His head was pulled back and the disgusting stubbly face with the horrid breath covered his nose and mouth again, tongue forcing entry once more.

The man's erection was pressed against Draco's abdomen, reminding him of a toddler's forearm, including a clenched little fist and all.

He tried _so_ hard not to look.

Suddenly he was yanked away by his hair and thrown on the ground. His shoulder hit the edge of the toilet painfully, but his primary concern was trying to pull his pants back on.

Greyback disagreed – after he calmly took his shirt off, he grabbed a hand full of Draco's pants and yanked them away, taking the shoes along carelessly.

The movement made Draco's head hit the wall, making him dizzy. The terrifying nausea still hadn't faded and he tried to curl up for protection. Before he could though the man put a big heavy dirty shoe in the middle of his stomach.

His intestines felt like they were being ground into a pulp and Draco wouldn't have been surprised if he was going to be squashed like a bug and die.

Pressure increased and so did the pain, his intestines somehow feeling the way mortar and pestle did.

"Please — " he tried breathlessly, unable to breathe, unable to gag but still feeling sick.

This was the first time he got to take a good look at the man, guffawing, leaning over him and waggling his brows. Draco used to think the man was tan, but the way he looked at it now it was just filth on his skin making him look darker. And those muscles – it was as if he knew what he was looking at, because he flexed them mockingly.

"There we go..." the monster said, just when Draco thought he was going to black out. The foot was removed and Draco gasped for the stinking air, gagging the moment he inhaled.

He tried to curl up – he couldn't help it, this was his life now – crossing his arms over his abdomen protectively. He was looking at the floor and could see enough of it to catch the man's shoes in his line of sight. The shoes were kicked off, quickly followed by trousers, underwear...

Draco felt something hot and wet under his leg that wasn't there before, so he realised he must have pissed himself while he was being stepped on.

It didn't seem to matter.

When his ankle was grabbed a dull ringing appeared in his ears. It increased when he was dragged closer to the monster, through his own hot mess and into the stench.

The monster must have sat down on its knees, because Draco could feel something warm and solid — its upper legs?— under his behind and lower back. Now something warm, wet, hot and flexible stroked over his anus, almost forcing its way inside. Limply Draco looked at the cream wall behind him, distinguishing enough in his reflection to know his ankle was being held up high and the monster was licking him.

He was moved again.

His thighs were now at either side of something big, warm and solid, probably its torso.

There was a particularly interesting spot high on the wall, close to the ceiling. It must have been there for years; a small patch of blueish grey where the rest was such a faint vanilla colour it could be mistaken for white in the right light. So pure. Was it a damp spot? No, that didn't make any sense, it must be something else. Had a charm discoloured the tile at some point?

It was really fascinating – Draco regretted he couldn't help but shut his eyes at the sharp pain when something big, solid and filthy entered his behind.

The half gloved hands were now gripping his hips high, moving him back and forth as that child's fist was tearing him apart inside.

Draco blinked his tears away — the spot on the wall became difficult to see.

He could feel the _child's fist_ fill him up and occasionally hit a spot inside of him that was making him grow hard. He didn't enjoy it the slightest.

Slowly the realisation dawned in on him that he was laying in his own piss.

How irrelevant.

He was still feeling nauseous, even though he wasn't gagging any more. The ringing in his ears hadn't faded yet either and actually increased as he was pulled higher by his ankle, which was then placed on the monster's neck. "Keep it there," it commanded.

Draco saw no reason to disobey.

His other ankle was pulled away behind the monster, and it sat more upright on his knees. Draco was only touching the floor from his shoulders and up.

The man's nails dug into his hips.

Draco vomited in his mouth but swallowed it again. The panic this usually caused felt distant and was drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

The Monster's nails dug into his skin and tore it as the thrusting continued and increased in pace – something to which Draco wished he was oblivious. It was especially hard to ignore since it occasionally hit that spot inside of him that could have been so nice.

His breathing increased temporarily when he ejaculated and he tried to distance himself from it as much as he could, shutting his eyes tightly at the sensation.

It didn't really matter though – even if his eyes were opened he wasn't registering anything he saw.

The Monster's movement became impatient and its rhythmic grunts increased, in sync with its thrusts.

It seemed Draco's lack of response was disappointing him. That thought almost made Draco smile – nothing is worse than being ignored.

When the _child's fist_ was pulled out of him and the Monster dropped Draco to the floor, the pain struck.

Sharp, dull, hot, cold – everything at the same time. He didn't know if he was bleeding or it was the monster's cum dripping out of him.

Almost in a reflex he curled up, desperately hoping for the numbness to return.

The Monster got dressed and was Greyback again.

"Clean yourself up," he commanded without looking back, as he left the bathroom and then Draco's bedroom.

He sighed angrily when he returned some time later, finding Draco in the same position he left him in.

"Get. Dressed." Greyback commanded.

Draco's fingers twitched. His panic was buzzing in his throat chest and abdomen, even though the ringing had long faded. "Are they going to kill me?" he asked softly. He had to strain himself to prevent his voice from breaking.

Greyback was obviously annoyed. "They want to talk to you. Get dressed."

When Draco still didn't respond Greyback put the shower on. Then he grabbed Draco by the shoulder, dragged him to his feet and threw him under the ice cold water.

Draco fell to the floor initially, unprepared to stand at all, let alone after being thrown. The cold water made it impossible to breathe and in shock he reached for the tap to raise the temperature.

He sighed deeply when the shower beam became comfortable and then turned to find Greyback observe him curiously.

"...you could use a shower too," Draco stated flatly.

Greyback crossed his arms and sighed. "Hurry."

Draco stroked his hair off his forehead, lips trembling at the pain in his behind. He was wobbling on his legs and had to lean his back against the wall to prevent himself from falling.

"You smell awful." Draco said ineffectually.

It smelled awful in here. Of piss, blood, sex, and strangers. It didn't seem like it was his own bathroom at all.

"Just hurry." Greyback seemed to be about to leave the bathroom again.

"Your stench made me sick." Draco muttered, not sure exactly why he was still talking.

Greyback glared at Draco angrily now: "Do you need help in there?"

Dazed and confused, Draco nodded. "Yes. I need healing." He looked down, slightly amazed by how much his knees were bent towards each other. He tried to straighten his back then, but the pain in his behind was so bad he fell back to the floor of the shower and yelped.  
He covered his face with his hands, pressing his eyes in an attempt not to cry.

He was humiliated enough without tears running down his face, whether anybody could see them or not.

Suddenly he was grabbed by his hair and yanked to his feet again, then was turned to face the wall. Again he yelped, but he was muted by the solid stone against his face.

Greyback must have healed him just now, because the pain in his behind quickly diminished.  
The pain in his hips, shoulders, head and stomach now reached the foreground, but Draco decided not to push his luck by asking the man to heal him more. He felt uncomfortable feeling Greyback's eyes in his neck but he chose to ignore it and quickly washed up — even washing out his mouth — before stopping the water.

Didn't this guy have any decency? Annoyed and intimidated Draco passed him to get a towel from the bathroom counter.

After he dried himself off he made sure to pass the guy without touching him — he just showered, after all. Also he had to avoid stepping into the disgustingly coloured puddle on the floor.

It stank.

Draco felt Greyback's eyes on him continuously as he got dressed, and he could smell the guy again when he re-entered the bathroom to find his wand and shoes.

He cast a '_Scorgify_' on the yellow...red...brown puddle on the floor, and then with a flushed face rushed by the _Monster_ again to face his death.

**When Draco walked down the stairs, the atmosphere became heavier with every step.** The moment he was downstairs it was difficult to breathe.

"The Dark Lord could be here right now, Draco" Bellatrix snapped, walking by him and indicating with her wand he had to follow her. "He could be praising us, praising you and we could be celebrating."

Draco followed her to the kitchen and sat down in the chair she pointed with her wand.

His Mother usually sat here.

"How did you do it?" Bellatrix then asked, waving her wand in the general direction of Evans who then started making tea.

"Do what?" Draco's hands were laying on the table, his left hand over his right. He was looking at them with more interest than he probably should.

"Fail." She walked behind him and then placed her hands on his shoulders, making him tense up. "What did you do?"

Draco swallowed. When he was younger he used to write to his aunt, claiming his letters would keep her company during her stay in Asakaban or whatever he made of the prison's name.

She seemed a lot nicer on parchment.

Bellatrix' fingers dug into his shoulders. "I know mummy is dead Draco, but orders are orders and you knew what the consequences would be. Now tell me how you failed or I will have to assume it was simply your incompetence... which would mean you can join Cissy on the library floor."

Draco inhaled deeply through his mouth, his mind racing. Somehow, telling her the majority of his plan had been depending on Weasley didn't seem like a good idea. When he took a breath to begin explaining, Bellatrix leaned her head on his left shoulder.  
He hesitated for another second – not only because she made him nervous, but also because the thought of Ron just hurt.

"I simply... persuaded Potter to come with me... in private, because I wanted to talk to him. He thought I was a Death Eater since the beginning of the year, so he probably thought I was going to confess I was... I just... failed to push him into the Cabinet. Didn't expect him to-"

"You pushed him?" She seemed surprised.

"Yes, I figured... Well he was eyeing my wand, he'd be prepared for me to cast a spell... no way he'd expect me to shove him... Would have drawn too much attention to us, too. But he managed to grab me and turn us round so he could fall out of it, and-..." Draco swallowed, shocked by seeing the puddle of filth he scorgified on the inside of his eyelids when he blinked. "Here we are."

Bellatrix sighed, stared ahead for a second and then stood up. "Get him some tea," she said to Evans before slapping Draco on the back of his head.

Evans put a fine porcelain cup of tea in front of Draco.

Mother's porcelain.

"Draco."

Draco looked up at his aunt, who was now leaning her back and both hands against the kitchen counter.

"Always rely on magic," she said as she nodded in an almost denigrating way.

He nodded in response.

She nodded some more, then levitated the sugar bowl over to the table with her wand.

Draco slowly shifted his gaze from her to the bowl. It belonged to the same set as the cup. White porcelain with a deep blue flower on each piece.  
Then he realised Bellatrix was making the spoon nearly fill his cup with sugar. Confused he looked up at her.

"Against the shock," she stated curtly.

He looked down again and he could see the top of the mountain of sugar stick out above the tea surface.

With a sigh he took a sip, wondering how sweet the blood he would later piss would be.


End file.
